


They Don't Talk About It

by faequeentitania



Category: Agents of Cracked, Cracked - Ambiguous Fandom, Cracked.com
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Casual Sex, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, From Sex to Love, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Light Angst, M/M, Oral Sex, Secret Sex, Self-Discovery, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2017-03-03
Packaged: 2018-09-28 01:26:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10061726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faequeentitania/pseuds/faequeentitania
Summary: Sometimes Dan questions which one of them is really the addict. Ever since the first overwhelming, confusing, amazing time Michael yanked him into a closet and sucked him off, Dan hasn't been able to say no.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A tale in which Dan and Michael have been sleeping together since S1, and they refuse to talk about it.
> 
> Yep, I'm still writing alternate timelines that span the entire series. I'm addicted.

They didn't talk about it. Dan didn’t even know where to begin, what he could have said.

He just knew that as much as he should have made it stop, he didn't. And he wasn’t entirely sure why.

That was a lie. He knew part of the reason.

It was right after Dan introduced Michael to the vastness of the Internet that Dan first saw Michael's dick. It was big, and weirdly lumpy, and was flushed a shade or two darker than the rest of Michael’s skin.

And Dan couldn't get it out of his head.

The fact that Michael was completely lacking in any sense of shame or decency meant that Dan saw it somewhat frequently after that, both hard and soft and it didn't serve to diminish Dan’s curiosity. If anything, it just fanned the flames.

In retrospect, Dan had the sneaking suspicion that Michael’s new tendency to expose himself to Dan was actually some kind of secret evaluation of Dan’s reaction to it. Testing the waters, so to speak.

He seemed to have eventually gotten the reaction he wanted, because Dan found himself being manhandled into a supply closet one afternoon by Michael’s greedy hands.

Before an objection or even an expletive could make its way out of Dan’s mouth, Michael was stuffing the end of Dan’s tie between his teeth and pinning him against the door of the dark, little room.

Dan froze and his eyes widened with blatant shock as Michael caged him in, leaning his forearm against the door besides Dan’s head while his other hand palmed the front of Dan’s slacks.

The only thing saving the last shreds of his dignity was the fact that it was too dark in the room for Michael to see how Dan’s whole face flushed a deep red when he immediately started to get hard in Michael’s hand.

His brain short-circuited a moment later when Michael sank to his knees and moved to undo his belt and fastenings.

 _This isn't happening,_ he thought deliriously, _I have to be dreaming._

It sure as hell didn't feel like a dream when Michael’s mouth wrapped around his dick, and he groaned harsh and desperate through the material in his mouth. He was probably hurting Michael with how tight he was gripping his shoulders, fingertips digging into the bony flesh through his shirt; but Dan couldn’t stop if his life depended on it, and Michael didn’t seem to care.

 _Holy shit holy shit holy shit..._ ran through Dan’s head on an endless loop.

The pressure of Michael’s mouth was _incredible_ ; each hard suck as he pulled his head back felt like a tug on Dan’s insides, and his knees threatened to give out at any moment. The only thing holding him upright was Michael’s hands holding tight to his hips, keeping him pressed up against the door.

He was too dizzy with pleasure to object when Michael tugged his pants down a little further, his brain otherwise occupied with the way Michael’s tongue was rubbing at the head of his cock.

Had he not already been gagged by the tie, he surely would have given them away with the shocked sound that burst through his throat when Michael shoved his hand behind Dan’s balls and pressed _hard_.

In an instant his vision went white and he shook through his orgasm; whining overwhelmingly as Michael pushed Dan’s dick to the back of his mouth to let him feel the squeeze of his throat as he swallowed.

Dan had never felt anything like it, and he was almost convinced for a few moments that his knees had actually liquified.

Michael pulled off with a wet sound, wiping his mouth before standing up and wrapping one arm around Dan’s waist to keep him standing; his body a hot line pressed against Dan’s from shoulder to thigh.

Before Dan could even fully get his wits about him, Michael had shoved the waistband of his own track pants down and took Dan’s hand, wrapping it around the width of his weird dick. Dan shivered and tightened his fingers in exploration before he had even thought about it, and Michael hummed approvingly.

Once he started he just couldn’t stop, curiosity burning through his normal awkwardness and pushing his fingers to explore every strange ridge and bump along Michael’s shaft. He realized he was still clenching the fabric of his tie between his teeth, and he spit it out and licked his dry lips as his thumb rubbed at the head of Michael’s cock, coming away wet with precome.

Michael’s breath puffed out against Dan’s neck, quick and soft, and Dan swallowed thickly as he altered the pace and the pressure of his hand. Michael gave a quiet groan, and Dan didn’t want to think too hard about the feeling of power it gave him to have Michael’s pleasure in his control. Michael had _literally_ put himself in Dan’s hands, and Dan was enjoying it far more than he had any right to.

Michael wrapped his hand around Dan’s and squeezed tighter, quickening the pace and Dan followed his lead blindly.

His own heart sped up when Michael’s breath started to come faster, warm and quivering against the side of his neck and making his hair stand on end. Michael groaned and ducked his head down suddenly, sinking his teeth into Dan’s shoulder with a sharp bite as he came all over the bottom of Dan’s shirt.

Michael squeezed Dan’s hand around him in an uneven rhythm for a few moments after, breathing shakily and pushing a little moan into the fabric at Dan’s shoulder.

Finally his grip around Dan’s hand loosened and pulled away, and Dan let his hand drop. A panicked, _what the fucking hell just happened?_ anxiety rose rapidly in his chest, and he opened and closed his mouth several times, trying to think of something to say.

But Michael just pressed a small kiss to the corner of his mouth before fixing his pants, then nudged Dan out of the way of the door and disappeared without a word.

Dan slowly put himself back together, cringing at the tacky cum on his shirt, but thankful that it was low enough down that he could tuck it in into his pants until he could sneak to the bathroom and rinse it off the best he could. He couldn’t really say he was surprised Michael had been careless of Dan’s clothes.

The anxiety in his chest built as he left the closet, and the rest of his day was spent on a razor’s edge of fear; fear that Michael was going to make some loud, snarky comment about what they had done, or, fuck, even just a _quiet_ comment that would make Dan feel humiliated and awful.

He didn’t. Not even the barest suggestion, like the entire thing didn’t even happen. Hell, knowing Michael, he may have forgotten all about it in the short time it took him to get from the closet to his desk.

Dan wasn’t so stupid as to think that the other shoe would never drop (in his life, it _always_ dropped), but as the days went by he expected Michael to bring it up less and and less.

Just as he was starting to think he imagined the whole thing, or maybe dreamed it, Michael cornered him in the parking garage, shoving him into the back seat of Dan’s SUV.

Dan had a brief moment to wonder if Michael was planning on murdering him (always _technically_ a possibility), but then Michael was going for his belt. Color rose immediately to his face when his (dumb, annoying, _completely nonsensical_ ) body reacted by getting embarrassingly turned on at an incredible speed.

It was simultaneously better and worse this time; instead of being cramped in a tiny, dark room, Dan could watch everything Michael was doing. And what Michael was doing was watching the motion of his own hand as he jerked Dan off. He looked captivated, his slightly parted lips shiny from repeatedly licking them.

Then Michael glanced up at him and smirked, and Dan feverently wished for the dark room again to hide the mortified blush that overtook his face.

Michael’s grin got wider and he grabbed Dan’s sides to yank him down until he was flat on his back on the seat, his knees on either side of Michael’s hips and his feet pushed against the door.

He had never felt more vulnerable in his life than he did with Michael looming over him, looking at him like he was going to eat him.

If it was possible for his face to get any redder, it would have when Michael shoved his pants down and stroked his own weird, oddly shaped dick. Dan couldn’t help his eyes from tracking down to it, and he didn’t realize he had licked his lips until Michael’s free hand chased his tongue back into his mouth with the pad of his thumb.

He shuddered and scrunched his eyes closed as he rubbed his tongue against Michael’s thumb; it tasted like candy and booze, and the whimpering sound Michael made when he did it was like a punch in the guts.

It was insane, and Dan desperately needed to talk himself out of letting this continue, but then Michael pulled his thumb from Dan’s mouth and was laying over him. Dan trembled as Michael pressed their dicks together, the dirty rub feeling so much better than Dan thought it would.

But what was killing him, what was making him simultaneously, increasingly turned on and mortified by the second, was Michael pressing their foreheads together as he began to rut against Dan with a groan.

He didn't kiss him, even though he wanted to. He was too afraid to do much of anything besides wrap his arms around Michael's back and press up into the pressure of his hips.

This was Michael's rodeo. Dan was along for the ride but he was not the one steering.

That was never more clear to him than when Michael pulled back enough to get a hand between them, and instead of going for their dicks he slipped his hand behind Dan’s balls again. That was okay at first; what he had done last time had been so awesome that Dan had started using it during his own jerk off sessions, but eagerness slipped rapidly to alarm when Michael pressed further back and slipped a long finger between Dan’s cheeks.

He gasped and opened his mouth to protest, but Michael shushed him, rutting his dick against Dan’s as he traced Dan’s hole before giving a hard rub.

He didn't press in, didn't even try, and Dan was flat-out ashamed of the way his orgasm took him by surprise; hot on the heels of the weird, squiggly pleasure that zinged through his insides from Michael’s touch.

“Knew you'd like that,” Michael breathed, the first thing he'd said since shoving Dan into the car, and even more shame made Dan's face superheated.

Michael pulled his hand away so he could lie flat over Dan again, adjusting slightly so he could press into the crease between Dan’s leg and his hip.

He thrusted there for a few minutes, breathing rough and uneven against Dan’s face before he came with a grunt.

Once again, Dan was covered in spunk; both his own and Michael's this time but at least he could go right home to change.

Michael hummed thoughtfully as he shifted a little to press his cheek against Dan’s, rubbing them together slightly like a cat marking its favorite human.

“Warm,” Michael said simply, holding his face still against Dan’s and Dan swallowed.

Turning his face just the tiniest amount, he left a light kiss on Dan’s cheek before pulling away and getting out of the backseat.

He didn't say anything else; just started whistling as he fixed his pants and headed toward his own car. Which once again left Dan half naked and confused about what the hell just happened.

It wouldn't be the last time. It was the beginning of a trend, apparently, with increasing regularity.

To his credit, Michael never pushed him to do anything beyond hand jobs and frottage for the first few months. He'd go down on Dan all the time, seemed to enjoy it, in fact, but he never tried to make Dan do the same.

It was perplexing, to be honest. He never expected Michael to do anything but demand everything, from everyone, all the time.

It occurred to him that the reason may have had less to do with Michael's sense of empathy and more to do with his lack of confidence in Dan’s capabilities.

Which was insulting, Dan decided. Just because he'd never _done_ it didn't mean he didn't want to or couldn't be good at it. Lord knew that Michael had done it to him enough at that point for him to understand at least the basics of what to do.

The more he thought about it the more irritated he became. Michael had roped him into this weird sex... _whatever_ the hell this was, but he didn't think Dan had anything to offer in return?

When given a goal, Daniel O’Brien was a force to be reckoned with. He actually _studied_ ; there were plenty of online resources for him to pull from, along with his own experiences. He was going to blow that asshole’s mind.

For the first time since this had all started, when Michael pulled him into an unused office, Dan didn't let him manhandle him. Instead, he grabbed a fistful of Michael’s gaudy, ridiculous, canary yellow shirt and twisted him around to be the one pressed against the door.

Michael’s eyes were as big as saucers, and Dan could almost see the alarmed question mark in his brain. Before he could say anything and completely ruin this, Dan sank to his knees and started undoing Michael’s equally ridiculous, violet skinny jeans.

“Holy shit,” was all Michael muttered when Dan yanked the tight denim down enough to get to his dick.

He was already hard, and Dan swallowed nervously before reminding himself that he had something to prove here. He wrapped his hand around the base of Michael’s cock and determinately took the tip between his lips.

Michael moaned, his hands gripping Dan’s shoulders and boosting Dan’s confidence. Slowly, he started to work his hand and mouth in tandem along Michael’s dick.

He couldn't help but catalogue the feeling of the different strange bumps and ridges along Michael's weirdly shaped cock against his tongue, and he wondered briefly what they would feel like inside a different part of his body.

He dismissed the thought immediately. He was still a long way off from being comfortable with _that_ particular activity; even thinking about considering it made his face flush red.

If Michael noticed, he didn't say anything, but his hands did shift to cradle the back of Dan’s head.

Dan shivered at Michael’s fingers stroking his short hair; just petting gently as Michael panted and moaned softly.

“Faster,” was all he rasped, encouraging a little with his hands and his hips.

Dan did as he was told, his head bobbing quick and messy along Michael’s dick.

Michael didn't warn him before he came; not that Dan was truly expecting him to, but it still would have been nice.

The first rush of bitter cum across his tongue made his nose scrunch in dislike, but he refused to be a hypocrite. He continued to work his hand and mouth until Michael was done, and swallowed around him a few times before pulling back.

Michael’s hips twitched into each contraction of Dan’s throat and he straight up _whimpered_ , inflating Dan’s ego to an unbelievable degree.

Dan wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, then risked a glance up at his partner. Michael’s head was tilted up toward the ceiling and he was panting, and Dan realized exactly how hard he was when he staggered unsteadily to his feet.

Michael looked back down at him and grinned manically before murmuring, “My turn,” and sinking to his knees to reciprocate.

It was incredible, as always, and Dan's fingers clenched in Michael's hair tightly when he came.

A kiss to Dan’s hip before he stood up, then he was gone, back to his desk and the day’s shenanigans without another word about it.

Anyone less in tune with Michael wouldn't have picked up on the subtle shift in their dynamic after that. It was almost as if Dan had gone from this unimportant, grayscale blob in Michael’s mind's eye to full technicolor; suddenly interesting like he clearly hadn't been before.

It was a double-edged sword in some ways. He liked that Michael seemed to respect him a bit more, but Michael was also pushing the boundaries more.

Like when Michael had him flat on his back in his backseat again, sucking his dick with the same enthusiasm he gave to eating... well, pretty much any candy he could find.

It was sloppy and eager and majorly awesome, and Michael’s hand squeezed a staccato rhythm along his shaft as he worked his mouth. It made Dan tremble and pant and arch against the seat, sweat making his shirt damp and uncomfortable.

He didn't think much of it when Michael nudged his legs a little further apart, restricted by the waistband that was shoved around his knees.

Michael's spit-wet finger still managed to wedge between his cheeks, rubbing at his hole and making Dan’s insides zing. Then he fucking _pushed in_.

Dan gasped and jerked, Michael’s name coming out in a strangled shout. Michael pulled off his dick and shushed him, rubbing his finger slowly from side to side until Dan’s muscles relaxed.

“I got ya, Dan,” Michael promised, which did not do much to settle Dan’s nerves, but the gentle care Michael was using actually did.

Before he knew it Michael's finger was buried up to the last knuckle, and his mouth was sucking Dan’s dick again. It felt a bit weird, but Michael's gentle and slow pace didn't cause any pain.

On the contrary, Michael rocked his finger and Dan’s nerves didn't quite know what to do with the feeling.

But they knew _exactly_ what to do when Michael pressed his finger upward; rubbing against a spot that yanked his orgasm from him in a sharp rush.

“Ow, man,” Michael grumbled a minute later, when Dan’s body went limp against the seat and his breath staggered out of his open mouth.

Dan realized his fingers were still clenching Michael's hair in a brutally tight grip, and he let go with an apologetic stroke over Michael's abused scalp.

“Sorry,” he murmured, and Michael shrugged, pushing down the waistband of his sweatpants and guiding one of Dan's hands down to his dick.

And that was that. It just became another thing that they did, another weapon Michael had to use against him. Another thing that Dan let his partner get away with that he was ashamed to admit he really, _really_ liked.

That really was the bitch of the whole thing. He would tell himself every time was the last time, but the problem was that he liked it. All of it. Even the things he never thought he'd like, things that had made him balk prior to Michael doing them.

It was why when he finally caught Michael lurking around his apartment in the middle of the night, he got out of bed and grabbed Michael’s arm, pulling him in the direction of his bedroom instead of the front door.

He didn't say a word and neither did Michael, but his partner’s eyes did get comically wide when Dan pushed him to sit down on the bed before getting a condom and lube out of his bedside drawer.

He put them into Michael’s hand firmly, only opening his mouth to murmur, “Use them.”

Michael nodded seriously, and Dan relished the moment of having Michael’s undivided attention. He nodded back before stripping off his t-shirt, then reaching for the hem of Michael’s.

They’d never done that before, Dan realized. It was always quickies in dark closets or offices or the semi-public backseat of Dan’s car, so they only ever removed the absolute minimum amount of clothing.

It's not like he hadn't seen Michael bare-chested before, admittedly, but it was the first time he allowed himself to touch.

Michael got impatient with Dan’s light touch down his chest. Dan gasped as Michael pulled him down onto the bed and rolled him under Michael’s taller body.

His heart pounded, and Michael’s attention decided to land on his neck. Dan couldn't stop the breathy moan that escaped his mouth when Michael started a trail of gentle bites down his throat.

Two thumps startled him until he realized it was Michael, toeing off his shoes and letting them fall off the side of the bed while his mouth and hands were otherwise occupied.

It was surreal, all of it. And Dan didn't want it to stop.

His hands traveled down Michael’s sides until they reached the waist of his sweatpants. He briefly wondered if Michael always wore pants that had elastic waists purely because they required less effort to have sex.

Regardless of the reason, Dan shoved them down, and between the two of them they pushed and tugged all of their remaining clothes off until it was just them on Dan’s cheap sheets.

Then Michael was taking him in his mouth and the familiar territory helped restore his equilibrium for a moment. He knew how this felt, he _loved_ how this felt, and he dug his fingers into the brown strands of Michael’s hair with a moan of encouragement.

Michael gave an answering moan that vibrated against the tip of his dick _amazingly_ , and it was almost enough to distract him from the way Michael fumblingly sought the lube amongst the sheets.

The wet sound of Michael applying it to his fingers and Dan had to take a moment to force himself to calm down. He _wanted_ this, had talked himself through a laundry list of insecurities to allow himself that want; he was not backing down now because of some last-minute jitters.

Because as crazy as it was, when it came to this, Dan felt completely safe with Michael. Not once had he done Dan harm, had rushed or been careless with Dan’s body when they were having sex; and as a result Dan couldn't help but trust him to treat this with the same care.

The first press of Michael's slick fingers made him shake, and he jerked up into the heat of Michael’s mouth with a moan. Just steady, constant pressure pushing inside him but Michael took it slow and made his mouth tight and sloppy wet and it kept everything feeling good.

Slow build, Michael barely brushing his prostate to keep him on edge but not push him too fast to the end, and Dan writhed with a pathetic whimper. He was going crazy; amped up by Michael’s mouth and his fingers but still battling the nervousness crawling through his insides.

Dan was dripping sweat by the time Michael worked up to four fingers, and he was pretty sure the bastard was just enjoying making Dan lose his mind.

“Oh god, _come on_ ,” he couldn't stop himself from begging hoarsely, fingers tightening in Michael's hair and his hips twisting conflictingly between Michael’s fingers and his mouth.

Michael pulled off abruptly, making Dan whimper, but then Michael’s fingers were gone too and he heard the sound of the condom being ripped open.

It always shocked him how strong Michael was; his tall, lanky frame made it easy to underestimate how forceful he could be when he wanted something.

Right now, he wanted Dan on his belly, and he flipped Dan over to achieve that like he was as light as a rag doll.

He didn't ask Dan if he was sure, or ready, or okay, and Dan couldn't be anything other that grateful for that because the less opportunity he had to second guess himself the better.

He just pulled Dan’s hips up into an angle he was satisfied with and pushed in.

Dan’s breath left him in a long groan, and he gripped the sheets tightly as Michael bottomed out, his hip bones pressing into the sweaty skin of Dan’s ass.

There was no way sex with a normal person could feel this good, Dan deliriously decided. It was Michael’s weird, magic dick. Without question.

A weird, magic dick that was putting incredible, constant pressure on his prostate, and the pleasure only increased exponentially when Michael started to move.

Every weird bump and ridge along Michael’s shaft rubbed against his sweet spot in a different way as Michael withdrew and pushed back in slowly.

 _Okay universe, I get it,_ he thought dizzily, momentarily distracted by the sudden understanding of why people who had sex with Michael lined up to do it again.

Then Michael reached up and gripped his shoulders, using the leverage to suddenly make his thrusts deep and hard and Dan actually, honestly gave a wordless shout of shock at the feeling.

He immediately buried his face against the sheets, muffling the stream of sounds he couldn't stop, and Michael moaned and panted behind him.

He wanted to touch himself. He wanted to push a hand under his body and get himself off; he was so close it was almost painful, his dick throbbing in time with his rapid heart if he could just-

He tried, but the way Michael was pinning him to the bed by his shoulders made it impossible to get his arm down, and he gave a frustrated growl.

If Michael noticed his frustration he didn't do anything about it; just kept pumping his hips in just the right way to make Dan crazy and so desperate he thought his heart would explode.

Dan could barely breathe. His pleasure was just mounting and mounting and mounting and he knew people died during sex but he never thought he'd be one of them.

Then Michael shifted his hips just a fraction on his next hard snap in and Dan straight up screamed into the mattress when his orgasm finally punched through his guts.

He was pretty sure he blacked out, because the next thing he was aware of was Michael’s heavy weight on top of him and his partner’s hot breath against his neck. Which was a shame, really, because feeling Michael come was a captivating experience.

Neither of them spoke, but Dan didn't really expect them to. It was par for the course when it came to this.

He felt a twinge of disappointment when Michael finally pulled away, carefully withdrawing from Dan’s body and Dan didn't know what to do with the gentle kiss Michael pressed against the back of his neck.

He didn't know what to do with the relief that blossomed in his chest when Michael laid down beside him, either. He was expecting Michael to book it, like he always did, but instead his partner put his open hand in the middle of Dan’s back and sighed deeply.

Dan drifted off again, and when he next opened his eyes there was light peeking through his blinds, and Michael was gone.

It was like being on a runaway train, this sex thing of theirs. Each new thing Dan allowed just made them both hungrier for it, until only a handful of encounters a month climbed to at least three times a week, if not more.

Dan could have never fathomed that he'd be having this much sex in his entire life. And the kicker was that it was all Michael; besides the first time he pulled Michael into his bed, Dan pretty much never acted first, never was the one to consciously seek Michael out.

He sure as fuck invited it, though. He didn't realize how loudly he was projecting “please wreck me with your dick” vibes until he caught himself watching Michael’s mouth while he sucked on a jolly rancher.

Michael’s mouth was stained blue from it, and he was mindlessly tonguing it to poke out from between his lips before pulling it back in, and Dan couldn't stop staring.

It was melted down to almost nothing by the time Michael noticed, and when he did he grinned before crunching the candy between his teeth.

“Alright there, partner?”

Dan felt his face heat and he turned away, looking back to his computer screen for the first time in twenty minutes and clearing his throat awkwardly.

“Yep.” He said, determinately not thinking about the fact that he was half hard just watching Michael eat candy.

But Michael was certainly thinking about it, if him detouring them into their favorite supply closet on the way to lunch was anything to go by.

Dan couldn't complain when his partner’s candy-stained mouth took him in almost to the base. Nor could he complain when Michael shoved his pants down to his knees and spun him around to pin him against the door so he could fuck him with nothing but a pre-lubed condom to ease the way.

Dan couldn't even care that the first few thrusts stung, his muscles too tight for comfort yet, because he knew it would turn into feeling good insanely fast.

He was right, and he came in his hand with a muffled groan a minute or two before Michael did.

Michael pushed his head down onto Dan’s shoulder when he came, his arms wrapped tight around Dan’s chest and Dan breathed shakily against the wood of the door.

They were still for a minute, just catching their breath, then Michael kissed his neck before letting go and they went about their day.

He always did that. Before pulling away, before they carried on pretending this didn't happen, Michael would kiss him somewhere. His neck, his cheek, his shoulder, his chest; almost anywhere but on the mouth. Michael was intimate with Dan’s body in ways that made Dan blush tomato red if he let himself think about it, but kissing on the mouth was painfully absent.

There were times when Dan considered going for it, when Michael’s face was pressed close and it his mouth was _right there_ , just waiting to be kissed...

He never had the nerve. This was Michael’s show, had been from day one, and Dan didn’t want to lose it trying to demand something that Michael clearly had no desire for.

He often wondered if it was a _Pretty Woman_ thing; a barrier that Michael was using to make sure Dan knew exactly what this was, and what it definitely wasn’t. He wouldn’t be surprised if Michael used movies as his guide for everything.

Michael was a strange, complicated creature, Dan was discovering. By day he would tease Dan constantly; would get them both in trouble with any wide array of nonsense and dangerous activity, would test Dan's patience at every turn.

But the guy who put hands on him in darkened closets and between Dan’s sheets was never anything but kind.

Not that he never left bruises, but they were never made out of carelessness or malice; just... _eagerness_.

And still they didn't talk about it. Which was both a relief and a source of anxiety for Dan.

The boldest he ever got towards breaching the subject was, “Why?”

They were in his bed, and Michael wasn't touching him, save for his hand curled around Dan’s bicep.

“Hm?” Michael inquired sleepily, and Dan swallowed.

“Why?” he repeated, his heart in his throat.

“Why what?”

“Why do we do this? Why did you start doing it?”

“Because it feels good?”

“That's all?”

“Yeah. Why? Doesn't it?”

Dan was quiet, and he talked his stupid feelings out of being hurt by that. Michael was a hedonist; he indulged in anything that he liked with zero shame or inhibitions. Why would Dan think this was any different?

“Dan?”

“No, yeah, it does. Yeah.”

“Okay.”

He asked Mandy out again the next day. He didn't want to just be a notch in Michael’s bedpost, another vice that Michael would some day throw away like a used needle.

She finally said yes, and Dan was determined for that to be the end of him and Michael's little... arrangement.

He was good at lying to himself.

He tried to resist, once. But the confused, hurt expression on Michael's face crumbled his resolve. That, and his own desperate need for Michael’s affection and attention. He needed it now, and he considered that maybe it was really him that was the addict of the two of them. Even with his half-hearted attempts to win Mandy’s heart he couldn't stop the thirsty pull toward his partner at every opportunity.

His only consolation was that Michael seemed just as affected. Michael fucked him like he had something to prove, or a point he was trying to make, only Dan wasn't entirely sure what it was.

Dan knew what his own point was when he desperately fisted Michael’s shirt in his hands the night of their weird, horrible, disquieting encounter with their Broked.com counterparts.

He'd felt slimy all day, like he'd been contaminated, and his shower didn't really help as much as he was hoping it would.

 _Hurry up and get over here,_ he texted Michael, too upset and desperate to play around with their usual “cover of dark” game.

Michael was there within ten minutes, and he grabbed Dan as soon as he walked in the door, crowding him up against the wall.

It was exactly what Dan needed. He wanted Michael's hands to scrub it all away, to make Dan feel like himself again.

They didn't even make it to his bed for the first round, Michael pinning him against the wall while he got him off with his mouth, and Dan shook as he held onto Michael's shoulders tightly.

They did make it to his bed for the second round, and it made Dan feel grounded again. He hoped Michael could understand how grateful he was by the clutch if his fingers in Michael's hair, the way he wrapped his legs around Michael’s hips tightly.

He didn't realize he was on the verge of hyperventilating until Michael was cradling his face and shushing him gently.

“It's okay,” Michael whispered softly, the two of them forehead to forehead and Michael's lips brushing Dan’s as he spoke. It was the closest they’d ever been to a kiss. His thumbs moved to stroke Dan’s temples with soothing circles, “I've got you. I've got you.”

Dan refused to cry in front of Michael. He _refused_ , he would not allow any more humiliation at his expense that day. He nodded feverently instead, focusing on Michael’s weight on top of him, his heat, the feel of his dick taking up space in Dan's body.

Dan counted out his breaths wordlessly as he calmed down, and Michael was unbelievably patient; keeping still and breathing slowly in time with Dan while his thumbs continued to rub soft circles at his temples.

“Please,” Dan whispered when he was back in control of his emotions, hiking his hips up against Michael's in a plea for him to start moving again, “Want you to.”

Michael gave a tiny nod, pressing a kiss to the corner of Dan’s mouth that was sweet and soft and made Dan feel like there were tiny sparrows fluttering around his insides.

Michael stayed over him a lot longer than he usually did after they both climaxed, just stroking Dan’s temples and laying an odd kiss here and there down his neck and shoulders and face.

Dan didn't question it; he just soaked up as much of it as he could and used it to push away the residual, unsettling feeling of Brian O'Donovan’s grabby touch earlier in the day.

He tried to remember that feeling when Michael started his stupid prank war.

His partner did things that frightened him on a regular basis, but it was usually in just a “generally reckless” kind of way. Michael's sense of devotion when it came to the trappings of being partners usually kept Dan feeling mostly safe.

But Michael's steep turn into violence legitimately scared the shit out of him, and he had a black eye and bruised ribs to validate it.

By the next day Michael had very clearly forgotten all about it, or else possibly gotten bored of it, but Dan wasn't able to put it aside so easily.

So when Michael tried to pull him into the supply closet before lunch he dug his heels in.

“Let me go.”

He made his voice as flat and serious as possible, and for once Michael seemed to take pause, frowning at him.

“What?”

“Let. Me. Go.” Dan enunciated each word carefully, staring hard at Michael until his hand fell away from Dan’s arm.

Michael glanced one way down the hall and then the other, then stepped closer to Dan to speak quietly, “What's going on with you?”

“How about the fact that you almost _murdered_ me yesterday?” Dan whispered hotly, “Look at my eye, Michael! Why the fuck would I want to go into a closet with someone who would do that to me without an ounce of remorse?”

Dan couldn't look at Michael's confused face anymore. He was wasting his breath.

He turned and went to the break room without another word, eating his lunch in sulky silence.

He woke up later that night to Michael getting in bed with him, and his blood boiled.

“Get out, Michael.”

“No. I want to talk to you.”

“I don't care.”

“Too bad, you’re gonna listen anyway.”

“Michael-” Dan was cut off by Michael actually reaching over and clamping a hand over his mouth. He flailed and tried to push him away, but Michael held on insistently.

“I'm sorry I hurt you, okay!” Michael said desperately, “Dan, come on, I'm sorry!”

Dan stilled, breathing rapidly. Michael never apologized for anything, not _really_ , and frankly, Dan doubted his sincerity now.

Slowly, Michael released his face, and Dan huffed.

“Are you apologizing because you’re actually sorry, or just because you want to have sex with me and you think this is the fastest way to make it happen?”

It was the first time he'd ever blatantly talked about what they did out loud. It seemed to startle Michael, because he was quiet for several long seconds.

“Did you really think I was going to murder you?” he asked instead of answering Dan’s question.

“You held a loaded gun to my head and filled my food with poison, so yeah.”

“They were just _pranks_ Dan.”

“ _Real pranks_ do not involve nearly killing me, Michael! Real pranks are harmless! Real pranks are wrapping someone's office supplies with aluminum foil or covering their car with post-it notes!”

“I'm sorry!” Michael said desperately, “Dan, I'm sorry you thought I was going to kill you. I'd never kill you, you have to believe me. Come on, man, we’re partners. I'd never kill you.”

“But you have no problem hurting me, apparently. Or terrorizing me.”

Michael sighed, and Dan huffed again before turning over with a wince and putting his back to him.

“Go away, Michael.”

Michael was quiet, but he made no move to leave.

Dan shied away when Michael put a hand on his arm, but his partner’s touch remained insistent.

“I want to make it up to you,” Michael murmured, “Let me make it up to you, Dan.”

“Michael-”

“Please,” Michael interjected, leaning down to kiss Dan’s shoulder gently. His breath was warm through the fabric and he let his mouth linger for a moment, “I'm sorry I hurt you, Dan. Really. Let me make up for it.”

Dan remained silent, but he didn't try to stop Michael, either. He was still angry, but Michael at least sounded sincere.

When Dan didn't push him away, Michael laid down behind him, stroking Dan’s side.

Dan winced, and Michael kissed his shoulder apologetically. He gently coaxed Dan onto his back again, then carefully placed a delicate kiss to Dan’s bruised eye.

One of the most frustrating things about Michael was that it was really difficult to stay angry at him. For all the horrible things he did, the obnoxious way he acted, there was an undercurrent of innocence and sweetness to him that oozed like pollution under Dan’s defenses.

He was doing his best to work that charm on Dan now, and despite himself it was working.

Michael sat up and shuffled down the bed, then settled with his knees on the outside of Dan’s thighs.

Dan flinched when Michael pushed the hem of his shirt up, but then Michael was ducking his head down and gently kissing the bruises along Dan’s ribs and belly.

His hands followed the path of his mouth, barely brushing, and Dan wasn't sure if it was his imagination or maybe the dopamine that was inevitably released in his brain whenever Michael put his hands on him like this, but Michael’s touch seemed to be easing the pain.

Michael reaching down and stroking his dick through his sleep shorts was a nice distraction too, and he sighed as he finally caved and reached up to pet his fingers over Michael’s hair.

Michael purred happily and Dan chortled, breaking the tension Dan had been holding onto.

He finally let himself relax, settling quite comfortably into the idea of just letting Michael do all the work.

So far, Michael was making good on his promise to make it up to Dan, his hand dipping into Dan’s boxers to stroke him properly while his mouth moved all over his chest and abdomen.

It was as relaxing as it was arousing, and Dan gave a weak moan when Michael’s thumb circled the head of his dick.

A lingering kiss to the middle of Dan’s chest, then Michael pulled back and started tugging his clothes off.

The sound of his nightstand drawer being opened, and Dan knew Michael was going for the condoms and lube.

What he wasn't expecting was the sensation of Michael rolling the condom down _his_ dick instead, and he waited with baited breath as Michael went on to add a messy squirt of lube.

Then Michael was straddling his hips and Dan’s brain ceased to function.

He had to be hurting Michael with how hard he was gripping his hips, but Michael didn't seem to care, sinking slowly down onto Dan’s cock with a moan that wasn't anything but pleasurable.

“Holy shit,” Dan gasped, the tight, hot squeeze of Michael's body making him shake, “ _Holy shit._ ”

“We should have done this sooner,” Michael groaned, rising up a bit before sinking back down slowly, “I forget how much I like this sometimes.”

He started up a slow rhythm, shifting and angling his hips a little to make it easier, and Dan gasped when Michael spasmed around him suddenly.

“Fuck,” Michael breathed, holding the angle steady as he rose and fell again, eliciting another spasm and Dan groaned.

If Dan’s ass felt half as good around Michael's cock as Michael's ass felt around Dan’s, he had to wonder how either of them managed to lead any sort of productive lives.

Michael rode him with the same careful deliberation and attention he had used to kiss Dan’s bruises, and Dan’s hands shifted restlessly over his partner’s body as he moved fast toward the end.

Michael moaned as he braced his hands on the wall above Dan’s head, his hips grinding down in desperate little hitches and that was it; Dan came in a hot rush, his hands gripping Michael tightly.

One of Michael's hands came down from the wall to grip his dick, and he jerked himself off until he came in messy spatters all over Dan’s belly.

Dan’s chest twinged a bit as he panted, his bruised ribs still tender, but it wasn't overwhelming.

“Still mad at me?” Michael asked softly, and Dan shook his head.

“Just... no more attacking me. No pointing loaded guns at me, no trying to poison me, nothing that will do me bodily harm, alright?”

Michael nodded, angling himself down to press another soft, gentle kiss to Dan’s bruised eye before pulling away. Dan’s softening cock slipped from his body wetly, and Dan’s hips hitched a little at the loss.

He pulled the condom off with unsteady hands, dropping it in the trashcan beside his nightstand as Michael settled down next to him.

When he woke up the next day, Michael was gone, as he expected, but when he got out of bed and looked in his bathroom mirror, he was startled to find that the bruises were almost completely gone.

He touched tenderly around his eye, which had overnight faded to the vague yellow-green of a nearly healed bruise, and his ribs looked to be at the same stage.

“What the hell...?” he whispered, his mind jumping back to the night before, when Michael had kissed his way across Dan’s various bruises with gentle care.

Which was _impossible_. Dan definitely needed his morning coffee if he was even entertaining the idea that Michael had somehow “kissed it better.”

And yet... he couldn’t remember whether he had seen or felt bandages on Michael’s arm the night before either, when there definitely _should_ have been...

Like most of the impossible things Michael did, he elected to ignore it.

He couldn't ignore the fact that Michael drugged him and caused Mandy to break up with him, however.

He was so angry. Not just because Michael's stupid dinner party wrecked his relationship, or the fact that Michael had drugged him _three goddamn times_ in the span of 48 hours.

He was angry because it was _so fucking stupid_. If they weren't working, they were fucking; Michael spent so much time with him Dan felt like they basically lived together, so what was the point of that whole song and dance?

And _why_ did Michael sleeping with Mandy hurt him so much more than the fact that Mandy had slept with Crazy Raul and Michael's “homeless wife”?

He felt cheated on twice over, somehow, despite how completely hypocritical it was.

Not to mention _dumb_ , because why on earth would Dan be the only person Michael was sleeping with? Michael had proven multiple times that he had no problem getting people to have sex with him; for all Dan knew he was part of a rotation within the office alone.

He felt twice the fool and three times the sucker, and trying to numb that feeling in the bottom of a liquor bottle sounded like a great idea.

But as always, Michael was ever-present, and pulling Dan into some crazy nonsense or another.

And it _was_ was nice of him, really, to try to cheer Dan up and get him laid. Yet despite his best efforts, Dan just couldn’t devote his energy into flirting with the bartender Michael had matched him up with.

He couldn’t stop thinking about Michael, and the crazy orgy that was definitely going on at his house, but instead of angry he just felt sad.

This... whatever... that they had going on was starting to mean a lot more to him than it did to Michael. Objectively, he had always known that was going to happen, but it still stung to actually be face to face with it.

He walked back to the office, changed his clothes, and did as much work as he could while he had the opportunity of a Michael-free work space.

There was nothing to distract him when he crawled into bed that night, though. Just his general misery and sense of fruitlessness circling through his head and keeping him awake.

He was about to give up and go watch TV or read when he heard his front door open and the familiar tread of Michael's steps through his living room.

He listened to Michael take off his shoes and pants in the dark, then felt the bed dip as his partner got into it.

He smelled like fresh soap and toothpaste and it occurred to Dan that Michael seemed to have gone out of his way to erase all the evidence of his afternoon activities. He didn't want to think too hard about why, because he knew his brain, and his brain would hope really hard for things it shouldn't.

But then... Michael didn't touch him. He just laid there, breathing slowly and taking up space on the other side of the bed.

“Michael?” Dan whispered, and Michael gave a non-committal grunt, “You alright?”

“Yeah...” Michael yawned, and Dan heard the rustling of the sheets as Michael settled in, “I just couldn't sleep with all those people clogging up my house. Their breathing was all wrong, I didn't like it.”

“...so you came here?”

“I took a sniff when I first came in, Dan. If you had company I would have just slept at the office. What happened, how did you ruin it with the nerdy bartender?”

There must have been a parallel universe where the things Michael said made perfect sense, but it sure as hell wasn't this one.

“I just wasn't her type I guess.”

Michael clicked his tongue, “She was dumb, then.”

Dan felt like warm water was spreading through his chest, and he scooted across the mattress to push into Michael's space.

He stroked his hand over Michael’s hair; it was still ever-so-slightly damp from his shower, and Dan stroked his thumb behind Michael’s ear gently.

“I know you just came from an orgy,” Dan murmured as he placed a kiss to Michael’s temple, “But think you can get it up again?”

Michael chortled, rolling onto his back and pulling Dan down against him, “You know who you’re talking to?”

Dan chuffed out a soft laugh, rubbing his cheek gently against Michael’s in the darkness of the room.

He was grateful that he couldn't see the marks other people had left on Michael's skin; it made it easier to pretend that this was just about them, that Dan had no competition for Michael's attention or body or time.

In other words, he was royally fucked.

Then they threw another person into the mix.

They were dancing around the fact that having sex with each other wouldn't be the scary part of this proposed threesome. And Dan _was_ scared; he was terrified, in fact, because things were complicated enough without including the woman Dan had pined for his entire four years of high school.

Dan couldn't exactly reflect on his behavior just prior to them actually going through with it with much pride. The things he said, about Kelly being his dream girl... they had been true once, years ago, but they weren't now. He had said them because he wanted to see Michael's reaction, to see if it would bother him or if he would change his mind about wanting to do this.

He should have known better, honestly.

The only consolation he took was that Michael seemed to be overplaying everything when it came to them actually having sex with Kelly. He was loud and grabby and utterly ridiculous and Dan had almost three years of experience by that point to know that it was just a show; just some weird act he was putting on for some unknown reason.

Maybe he just wanted to give Kelly a good story to tell back on the east coast.

Either way, it was the beginning of a slew of incidents that made Dan face the deep-seated jealous streak in him that he had been previously unaware of.

Still they didn't talk about it. They didn't acknowledge it when it wasn't happening; just carried on, business as usual.

The most baffling thing to Dan was the fact that Michael hadn't grown bored of him two and a half years ago.

Michael flitted from interest to interest with the attention span of a hyperactive puppy given speed, so Dan really had no clue how Michael still treated him with the same keen interest and careful attention that he'd been giving Dan from day one.

Maybe it was because he was a sure thing? Or maybe just out of routine now, or habit? Dan wasn't sure, and he was too afraid of Michael putting a stop to everything to ask.

Then they died.

Well, “died” would be more accurate.

It was a good plan to get the Chiefs off their backs, but it did leave Dan a bit like a ship adrift. He could look for another job on the west coast, but he still felt nagging fear that he was vulnerable there; too many people familiar with him for him to effectively go off the radar.

The Chief would take care of Michael; set him up with a new life or identity or whatever he needed to do to keep the rest of the Chiefs off his scent. Dan doubted the same charity would be given to him, even if he was Michael's longest-lasting chew toy.

So he decided to go home to New Jersey.

It was a terrible plan, emotions-wise. Dan had come to like California quite a lot, and the idea of quitting Michael cold-turkey made him sick with misery.

Not just because of the sex, though that was certainly part of it, but because he genuinely, from the bottom of his heart, cared about the guy.

And the look on Michael’s face; the hurt, the confusion, the desperation... there was a chance there was care there too, but Dan couldn’t afford to think like that. He couldn’t stay. He just couldn’t.

The day they “died,” Michael followed him home immediately after work. He tried to talk Dan out of it, gave a host of reasons why he shouldn’t go back to the east coast, up to and including Michael’s real death.

“Michael...” Dan just sighed, shaking his head sadly, “This sucks, man, believe me, but I don’t have a choice. I’m not magic like you. If the Chiefs ever find out we’re alive they’ll probably kill me for real this time.”

“I’ll protect you,” Michael offered immediately, and Dan’s heart broke a little.

“I know, buddy,” he murmured, “But I still have to go.”

Michael shifted his weight side to side anxiously, his face pinched and upset and Dan just wanted to smooth it away with his hands; turn Michael’s face back into the grinning, sweet one he was used to.

Instead he stepped into Michael’s space and slipped his arms around him gently, halting his movement and stroking his hands up and down his partner’s back.

Michael hugged back fiercely, burying his face down into Dan’s shoulder. Dan reached a hand up to stroke his hair gently, and the idea that the opportunities he had to do that were numbered made his heart feel like a heavy, lead weight in his chest.

“Come ‘ere,” he whispered hoarsely, pulling back a little and turning his head, pressing his mouth along Michael’s jaw.

Michael turned his face away and Dan’s heart sank into his shoes.

That was it, then. Dan felt queasy with distress, and he determinately swallowed down the tears that were threatening to well up.

He couldn't be angry with Michael. He understood, really. It still hurt, there was no avoiding that, but being mad would only punish them both.

Michael let go, and left without another word.

Dan didn't see his partner for three days. It was the worst three days in recent memory, and Dan never knew he could feel this miserable. Not over Michael, especially.

Then Dan woke up to his partner pressing up against his back in the middle of the night, like he had done so many times before.

Dan was so weak. So weak and so unhappy about leaving this behind that he didn't even hesitate. Just shoved his own clothes out of the way and turned around in Michael's arms, pulling him in and begging him silently for any scrap of affection he was willing to spare.

Michael obliged him.

When Dan woke up the next morning, Michael was still there.

Light was leaking through the blinds, and Dan’s heart hurt as his eyes scanned from Michael's tousled hair, to the shadows created by his eyelashes, to his slightly parted lips, to the curve of his throat and his bare chest.

He had wished for this so many times, had wanted to wake up to this, and he hated that the only time he'd ever see it was because it was probably the last time.

He couldn't look at Michael's sleeping face anymore. As quietly as he could he slipped out of bed and back into his sleep clothes, then made his way softly to the kitchen.

The automatic timer on his coffee pot had started up, and was filling the room with the rich smell of fresh coffee.

He sat at his little kitchen table as he waited for it to finish, staring miserably at the wood swirls on the table’s surface.

Michael appeared in the doorway. He was wearing his t-shirt and boxers but nothing else, and it made Dan even sadder. They should have been doing this part a long time ago.

“Please don't leave me, Dan.”

“Don't do this to me, Michael. Please. We’ve been over this.”

“Your reasons are stupid,” Michael jutted his chin out defiantly, “All the reasons you need to stay are more important.”

“And if the Chiefs figure out we tricked them and come back to finish the job?”

“We’re already dead, Dan, they can't hurt us!”

“ _We are not dead, Michael._ We’re not dead, that was an act. We are very much alive and while you have a powerful, magic dad to keep you safe I don't have the same protection. Nor do I have a job anymore, I don't have anywhere else to go but back home.”

“This is your home!” Michael’s voice squeaked, like it did when he was really upset and Dan never felt lower, “This is home, Dan, your home is with me!”

The coffee pot beeped, signaling that it was done, and silence stretched on for a long moment after that.

Dan got up, pouring himself a cup because he didn't know what else to do. It put his back to Michael, but he could still feel his partner’s eyes on him.

“Please-” Michael said again, and Dan slammed his fist on the counter angrily.

Michael gave a surprised gasp, and Dan steadfastly kept his back to him, “I can't do this anymore, Michael. I've told you why. My mind is made up. Please just leave.”

Dan would have rather dug his own heart out with a spoon. But he couldn't face Michael's sad eyes anymore, couldn't have this argument anymore, it hurt too much.

Michael was staring at him, he could feel it.

Then Michael was in his space, not touching him, but close enough to and Dan’s back tightened tensely.

A soft kiss to the back of his neck, then Michael left.

Dan only managed to hold it together for a full three minutes after his front door closed.

He didn't see Michael again until the day he left.

Michael had photoshopped a gravestone with his name on it, a last pitch to convince Dan how quickly he would die without Dan there.

Michael held out his hand for a handshake, then kept holding on; made a series of ridiculous sound effects and narration, and Dan knew just as well as Michael did that he was stalling, trying to keep Dan there as long as he could.

And Dan just couldn't do it. Just couldn't let this stupid handshake be goodbye.

“Michael,” he interrupted, laying his other hand over Michael's to still him, and his partner fell silent remorsefully, “Come with me.”

Dan had never seen so many emotions fly over Michael’s face in just a handful of seconds. Shock, elation, doubt, elation again.

“You mean it?” he asked breathlessly, his hand tightening around Dan’s, and Dan squeezed back.

“Yes,” Dan said softly, “I want you to come with me. Please.”

Michael immediately pulled him into a crushing hug, and it was the first time Dan had felt good in a week.

“Let’s go, partner,” Michael whispered excitedly, and Dan laughed, giddy and relieved.

Then they were up in the air, watching the landscape go by, and for the first time in a long time Dan felt uncertain about what he had permission to do.

He couldn’t stop thinking about what Michael had said, the morning they had woken up together, _This is home, Dan, your home is with me!_

He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it, had been driving himself crazy thinking about it. It felt like a fool’s errand, to think that Michael had meant that the way Dan wanted him to.

“I feel like the first act of a Lifetime movie.”

He was trying to make light of it all, to abate how unsure he felt.

Then Michael’s hands were on the back of his head and the edge of his jaw, pulling him roughly into a sloppy, aggressive kiss and Dan was so startled he even surprised himself when he slapped him.

How long... _how long_ had he been wanting Michael to kiss him, _really_ kiss him? How many moments and opportunities had they wasted _not_ kissing?

He stared aghast at his partner for a second, and Michael rubbed where Dan had hit him, his eyebrows creased with confusion and hurt.

“What... took you so long?!” Dan breathed, vibrating with emotions he didn’t even have words for, and the hurt immediately vanished from Michael’s face as he reached for him again.

Their second kiss was no less sloppy and aggressive than the first, but it was eager and desperate too, and Dan wanted nothing more than to find all the other kinds of kisses he and Michael could share.

They’d been dancing around this for a long time. Their... trysts, encounters, whatever they could be called, had evolved through the years and the moments together. Michael had all but said it when he stayed the night, _It’s not just about sex for me either. This is more!_ but Dan hadn’t been listening properly.

He was listening now, and Michael was too, and they dragged their secret, passionate thing out into the daylight and made it clear that “friends with benefits” was a long way in the rearview mirror.

And honestly, the sex wasn’t really any different than the sex they usually had in weird places; it still involved the minimum amount of clothing removal, still involved Michael being gloriously, _beautifully_ happy to get Dan off with his mouth, still involved pre-lubed condoms and Dan pushing through the temporary sting of taking Michael too quickly but knowing the pain was fleeting compared to the payoff of Michael’s weird, magical dick.

But at the same time it _was_ different, it felt different, felt better and more intimate and... _loving_. Even though the only true difference from their usual repertoire was the way Michael paused, pressed up flush against Dan’s back and buried inside him, to take hold of Dan’s chin and coax his head to the side so he could kiss him like it was the best idea he’d ever had.

It was, in Dan’s book.

“Sorry it took me so long.”

They laid on the floor of the basket after, redressed properly to fight off the high-altitude chill and pressed chest to chest with their legs intertwined and Dan’s bag as a pillow.

Michael rubbed the tip of his pointy nose against Dan’s gently, one arm tucked under his neck and wrapped around his shoulders while his other rubbed a slow circle in the small of Dan’s back.

The hand Dan had pressed to Michael’s chest rubbed softly against his sternum, feeling the steady heartbeat underneath, “Did you hear me?”

Michael hummed in acknowledgement, then gave a small shrug, “You’re you, Dan. You’re a bit slow on the uptake with this kind of stuff.”

Dan chortled, giving his head a little shake, “Pretty sure I’m insulted.”

Michael giggled, angling his head in for a quick kiss, “Oh come on, nerd. You’re a terrible judge of how people see you. For example-”

Michael wrapped his arms around Dan a little tighter, then pressed another kiss to his mouth, “You were completely brain-dead to how boring Mandy found you, while I was literally making a point of trying to fuck you so good I ruined you for anyone else. You still didn’t get it through your weird little head.”

Dan blushed, rubbing the fabric of Michael’s shirt between his fingertips awkwardly, “Michael... you’re a bit hard to read, you know. And you tried to kill me a couple of times. It wasn’t exactly a clear signal.”

“I never tried to kill you, Dan, we’ve been over this.”

“Regardless,” Dan sighed with a fond shake of his head, “I’m sorry I didn’t understand. And I’m glad you wanted to come with me.”

“I forgive you. Are we really going to sleep in a grain silo?”

“No,” Dan chortled, “Well... maybe. But only if we accidentally land in a field.”

“...can we on purpose land in a field?”

Dan chuckled, pressing a firm kiss to Michael’s lips.

“We’ll see.”


End file.
